


Conversation

by Keystoffees



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: Aussie comic con, Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, F/M, Smut, So tired now I hope this makes sense, cumbersmut, meet and greet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keystoffees/pseuds/Keystoffees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aussie Comic Con-inspired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> At the Comic Con Meet and greet. With wine.

I sat at the round, white linen-covered table and fingered the stem of my wine glass. My friend sat next to me and jiggled her legs in nervous anticipation. We could see him at the table next to us, holding court magnificently, a group of open mouthed girls and one solitary bloke hanging off his every word.

I was here with her, for her. She wanted someone to come with her to keep her company for the hours of queuing and waiting for a photograph or for him to sign a book or DVD. I didn't expect I would be sat at an intimate table with 8 others, waiting for the star to arrive so we could "chat" to him.

I took a gulp of wine and nibbled a piece of pineapple from the generous plate of fruit that sat in the middle of the table. It was sickly sweet and made my teeth hurt. More wine.

I whispered to my friend that I was going to find the bathroom and the rest of the table all turned to look at me like I had said I was leaving for good. Relax, I mumbled to them all, the toilets will be empty while this is happening, and I'll be quick. I won't miss it.

I stood and walked past the adjacent table, smoothing down my skirt just as he turned to look. I caught his eye by accident and smiled. It's what you do when you catch someone's eye. His blue green gaze lingered just a little too long and I was suddenly past him and pushing on the heavy fire door, looking for the nearest ladies'.

***

I took a deep breath as I pushed open the door to the large function room and prepared for the stares as I dared to disrupt this group of fans from their time with the star.

Oh shit, he was standing up, looked like he was about to move to our table. This would be awkward. I walked slowly towards him and moved to inch past as he said his goodbyes to the table. He was trying to make a heart with his hands and failing miserably so he resorted to blowing them a kiss instead. I looked at the floor as I tried to slip past, hoping everyone would be looking at him, of course they were looking at him.

And, smack. His hand flew back and he caught my arse with it as he turned to start walking towards our own table. "

"Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry, erm, about that." He stuttered.

"Ha!" I laughed. "Smooth!"

I turned my head and caught those wonderful eyes again as he followed me. I found my chair and he found his. As I moved to sit down he swept over to me, saying: "Ooh, no, let me?" And he pulled out my chair for me.

"A gentleman. Despite having just slapped me on the arse." I dead panned.

He smiled and muttered another apology and sat down on his chair, opposite my place at the table. He asked who had questions. They all did. About Sherlock. About Smaug. About Khan. My friend asked him what preparation he was currently doing for Hamlet. He liked that. He looked at me frequently. He asked me if I had a question. I didn't have one about his work, I said, but I would like to ask for his number.

I looked at him over the top of my wine glass and watched his face crease into a huge smile, his nose crinkling at the top and his hand flying up to his lips, like this had never been asked of him before. The rest of the table laughed at me. I didn't particularly care. My friend nudged me and gave me a look: "I can't believe you did that."

He carried on chatting for a while and then the signal was given that he should move to the next table. He blew us all a kiss, looked again at me and moved on, to a huge cheer from us, the next table joining in too.

I downed my glass of wine and ate some more of the fruit. My friend was talking nineteen to the dozen with the girl on the other side of her about what he'd said. I stared at the two of them and stood, telling my friend I would wait for her outside the room. It was really hot in here and I needed some air, yes, I would be fine, no, I wouldn't go anywhere without her.

I walked slowly towards the door and I felt a tap on my shoulder. A security guy handed me a small piece of paper and motioned to me to carry on. When I was outside the room I looked at the ticket stub in my hand. Scrawled in barely readable writing in thick black marker pen was his name and a dressing room number.


	2. Chapter 2

I waited in the foyer with another glass of wine, until I heard a loud cheer in the room. I heard his voice over a microphone: thank you, fucking hot, lovely talking, adore you all. Then more cheers and noise as chairs were scraped back and giggles were shared. 

My friend came out of the room behind two hobbits. Smiling at me, she sat down and drank the last of my wine. She could die happy now, she said. And she had been talking to someone lovely and they were going to find a bar, get something to eat. 

I wasn't hungry, I said. I had a headache and would probably head back to the hotel. She told me off for being cheeky to him and I laughed. What a nerve I had! He must get asked that a hundred times a day, poor bloke. She wondered if he had a type. I wondered what his hair would feel like between my fingers.

The lovely new person found us and my friend stood up to leave. I thumbed the ticket stub in my hand, although I had memorised the information on it. Impatience. Kiss goodbye, see you later, text me to let me know you're ok? They joined the crowd thronging outside the doors, into the humid air.

I waited again for the crowd to clear, then stood and smoothed out my skirt again. I ran my hand over my bottom and imagined him doing the same. I swallowed hard and focused on a door, walking towards it, light headed from the wine and the anticipation.

Confusion at the door, someone was messing around with audio equipment. The security guards weren't looking so I slipped my pass into the front of my button down shirt and bent my head. Confidence. Pretending to speak to someone important on the phone, I walked straight through. 

No-one stopped me. Confidence! My heart started pounding in my chest as I wandered around. I hadn't got a clue where I was going or even what I was looking for. There didn't seem to be any numbers on any of these doors. Well, maybe I would just have a look around for a while. 

"Well, hello." his voice! I turned my head to look. "How did you even get through security?"

I wasn't sure, I told him. Just a lucky slip while they were otherwise engaged. His eyes moved to my chest where my pass was nestled between my breasts and he blushed and ran a hand through his hair. Would I like to get a drink? he asked. I stared at his eyes. I could have stared for hours but I nodded and let him guide me towards a small bar area. 

We sat and sipped at more wine. He said he should probably stop drinking now and it was my turn to blush when he accidentally glanced down at my chest again. He remembered my name from the meet and greet and he was glad I had flirted with him. Most girls are usually either really obvious and crude or too shy to say anything. 

We talked about the convention and he said he'd had a great time. He liked talking to people and he was pleased he got to spend some time chatting instead of just signing things and having photos taken. He kept touching his mouth and I kept subconsciously copying him.

Another drink and a hand brushed against my leg. He didn't usually do this. Neither did I. 

It was done. A decision made between us without the question being asked. Gulps of wine followed by long fingers wrapped around my hand. Now which way was his dressing room again? Ah, yes, this way. 

The wine was fuzzing my head now and I let him rush me to the door. I giggled. So did he. Once unlocked he threw the door open and held it, a hand finding its way to the small of my back and teasing me with a press of fingers. Is this alright? Was I ok? His mouth was so polite but I could see his body was betraying his manners, a hardness already forming under his jeans. 

He took my face between his palms and gave me a lingering look, as if he was waiting for something further, a sign from me. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth and that was enough. His mouth on mine, slowly at first and then hungry. Mmmm, ahhhh, and then, oh god, as he pushed me back against the wall.

His tongue sought me out as his hands grasped at me, fingers undoing buttons; mine, his. I ran my hands up under the white t shirt to feel his warm soft skin and muscles that were tight as he pulled my shirt off. Stooping to kiss my breasts, he pulled clumsily at my bra. I raked my hands into his hair and pushed my hips out towards his hard crotch. 

"Sofa!" He mumbled into my lips as we stumbled and fell onto the cushions. My head hit the arm of the couch and his hands pushed up my skirt, crinkling the fabric which was gathering at my waist. Take them off, I said breathlessly as he slid my panties down, and as quickly as I'd said the words, his hands were back at my thighs. Grabbing, squeezing, long fingers reached back to my arse. He groaned, such a low noise that it was a vibration. 

"Take them off," I repeated my words, but I meant his trousers. Fuck, yes, he pulled back and wedged his knee between my legs to steady himself, un-fastening his jeans. 

"You look fucking beautiful, who the fuck ARE you?" I couldn't answer but I didn't think I was meant to. 

I tore at the pale blue shirt, slipping it down over his shoulders and elbows and he grabbed back at my breasts, pulling the lace down to expose my nipples. Two hands and a mouth were on my chest, a tongue flicking at the hard peak of one, nimble fingers rolling the other. 

He had a condom, he said, just a sec... aha! I reached down and helped him roll it on. His hands smoothed the material of my skirt over my stomach as I did and he stared at me with those fucking eyes. I wanted to be able to stare into them forever.

His hand was on me, sensitive at the contact and I bucked my hips when he slipped a finger inside. Fuck, yes, I screamed and he added a second. He had to have me now, he said, next time he would take it slow. 

Now, I said. 

He entered me slowly, holding himself up on the arm and the back of the sofa. I wrapped my legs around his waist and fumbled to pull his jeans down further. He moved out of me slowly and I groaned as I adjusted to the feeling. I looked into his eyes again and it was the unspoken affirmation he needed. 

Then it was animalistic, hot, sweaty, groans and ahhs in rhythm with his thrusts. He kept a punishing pace while I found the right angle for my hips and pushed back against him. I clawed at his shoulders and nipped his neck with my teeth as he licked at my earlobes, his hot breath hitting my skin and hair and disappearing into the fibre of my being. 

I started to forget where I was, the convention, the meet and greet, the people in costumes. It was like being out-of-your-head drunk and one hundred percent sober all at the same time. Like the short space of time before you fell asleep or woke up. There was only the feeling of him inside me, filling me, and the sounds we were making. I couldn't even feel the sofa underneath me anymore, I think we were floating. 

Yes, fuck! Come! He said. His words rattled in my head and I exploded around him, I might have screamed, I might have been silent, I had no idea what was happening. And while I was lost, he found me, shuddering into my shoulder, auburn hair falling in feather soft waves. Fuck, he was saying. Over and over. Fuck, I said. At least we agreed about that. 

Hours passed, or was it two minutes? Are you ok? Was that alright? I could barely answer him so I nodded and he sighed appreciatively. That was amazing, I eventually offered. He laughed. I asked for a drink of water. He cleaned up and brought me one. He sat next to me on the couch again and draped his arm gently over my shoulders as I re-fastened the buttons of my shirt.

Did he have a question for me, I said as we talked in hushed tones. He did, he said: would I like to know where he was staying.


End file.
